


Cabinet Distractions

by lextaff



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: A sequel is possible, Don't expect it soon, I know it, M/M, No Angst, Please be nice, Smut, So is Alexander honestly, Thomas is such a tease, Thomas more so, first smut, i'm trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 17:36:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8676577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lextaff/pseuds/lextaff
Summary: "Why, in God's name, do you always wear so many layers of clothing?""Two reasons. The first being that I'm always cold. The second reason is that it's more entertaining to me when you try to take them all off at once."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Guys this is my first smut so please be nice to me. I'm pure jamilton trash, them teasing each other is my favourite thing.

Hamilton and Jefferson had already discussed the important issues for the day, and now was the only time the rest of the cabinet actually got to talk and discuss the other things. The two secretaries thought this was beneath them, as they had already finished with their other issues, so they just sat back and didn’t listen or pay attention to anything that was going on. No one cared that they weren’t paying attention, as this was the only time anyone else ever got to speak. 

Hamilton was getting bored, even more so than usual, so he got out his phone under the table and shot Jefferson a text message, hoping to God that the idiot had his phone turned on vibrate for work. His prayer went unanswered when he heard a quiet ping from across the room and everyone turned to stare at Jefferson, who paled. “Shit,” Hamilton muttered quietly. He knew the other man didn’t do well with social anxiety, no matter how confident his façade made him appear, and suddenly, unexpectedly, being the centre of attention surely didn’t help. 

“Sorry,” Jefferson muttered and Hamilton watched him silently pull out his phone to check it and turn the notifications off. He glanced at the screen, then immediately looked up and fixed Hamilton with a steely glare, who, in turn, shrugged apologetically. Hamilton’s phone vibrated in his hand and he flinched when he opened it, reading the barrage of angry messages sent to him by Jefferson in response to the original text.

He turned his face up to look across at Jefferson once again, mirroring his impassive face with carefully guarded eyes. Hamilton suddenly grinned, making the other’s mask of indifference falter, he saw his brows pull together in confusion. Hamilton quickly returned to his phone and typed out a message and sent it, looking upwards again to gauge the other’s reaction. Hamilton noticed the quiet vibration of Jefferson’s phone, simply because he was expecting it. If he hadn’t been straining to hear it, he wouldn’t have. Hamilton watched Jefferson cautiously look at his phone, then his eyes widened and his breathing sped up, not enough for anyone to notice normally, but Hamilton had been expecting a reaction, and he knew what to look for. 

Jefferson quickly looked back up to Hamilton, eyes wide and questioning. Hamilton grinned back at him and raised his eyebrows challengingly, knowing that he wouldn’t back down from this. Jefferson’s eyes narrowed, and Hamilton grinned wider, taking that as an acceptance of his challenge. He sat back contentedly, waiting for his phone to vibrate again, growing impatient when it didn’t immediately notify him. He watched Jefferson concentrate fixedly on a spot underneath the table, imagining what exactly he was typing, and trying to guess what he would say when he got his next message, his mind drifting into areas extremely inappropriate for work. He was just mapping the contours of his body, everything his could see, at least, when his phone finally buzzed at him. 

He picked up his phone, eyes scanning quickly over the length of the novel that Jefferson had sent, then pausing and reading it again, slowly, letting his words wash over him. Jefferson had sent him an in-depth, detailed description of what exactly he would like to do to his body, and Hamilton’s eyes widened, reading it. He felt a flush rising in his neck and face, and his breathing sped up quite noticeably. A pool of heat curled in his lower belly and he had to resist the urge to moan, biting his lip instead. He glanced across the table at Jefferson and held his gaze, then Hamilton purposefully licked his lips and Jefferson swallowed. They stared at each other rather intensely for a few seconds, before James Madison nudged Jefferson’s arm to ask his opinion on something, breaking the spell between the two of them. 

Alexander sighed shakily, and tried to relieve some of them tension from his body, relaxing back into his hard chair. His efforts at relaxing were futile, however, when Jefferson glanced up one time again, and smirked at him, then winked. He then resumed helping Madison, leaving Hamilton struck, wondering what else was coming his way.

Hamilton felt used, a feeling he was actually quite used to, given his previous endeavors and he had learned to ignore it by now. He reopened his phone and read the ridiculously long message and felt his breathing hitch in his throat again. He carefully typed out a response to this, making it slightly shorter but also unnecessarily long, and sent it. Hamilton watched Jefferson for a bit, waiting for any sign that he received the message, wondering if he turned his phone off. He got a message, and was confused when his phone notified him of this because he never saw Jefferson take out his phone. 

The message was from John Laurens, his longtime friend, and used to be lover, and Hamilton paled when he saw his message. John had written, “Wow, Alex, I appreciate the vivid detail, but was this meant for me?”  
Hamilton quickly typed out, “No, sorry. That was meant for someone else, my apologies.” He then copied the message originally intended for Jefferson, and sent it to the original recipient, checking multiple times that it would send only to Jefferson. He didn’t think he could handle it if he accidentally sent this to Eliza, or if Lafayette got his hands on this, he’d never hear the end of it. 

His phone buzzed shortly thereafter, in quick succession of him sending those messages. The message was from John, saying, “It’s alright, I’ve gotten used to your distractions,” with a winky face at the end, and Alex laughed quietly, keeping in mind that he was still in the godforsaken meeting. 

He then glanced up to watch Jefferson’s reaction to his message and was rewarded in the best possible way. Jefferson pulled out his phone, telling Madison to keep talking, that he was listening, but it became apparent when he wasn’t anymore, curtly answering his questions and turning away from him. Jefferson then opened the message and his eyes slowly got wider and darker as he read the message that Hamilton had tried to make as detailed as possible. He watched as Jefferson’s tongue slowly peeked out from in between his lips and darted across his teeth, and how he sucked on his bottom lip distractedly, all of these things causing more heat to pool in his lower belly. Jefferson looked up at Hamilton, gaze black and suggestive, and he glances down at Hamilton’s lips, then back up at his eyes, and Hamilton shifts in his chair, trying to relieve some of the tension and alleviate some of his arousal without being too obvious. Jefferson smirks at him, and Hamilton knows that the other man knows exactly what he is doing, and is mocking him for it. 

In response, Hamilton texts back some of the dirtiest things he can think of to do to him, finishing his last sentence and then looking up at Jefferson expectantly, waiting again for a reaction. Jefferson’s eyes narrow, and then he must get a notification of some sort, because he checks his phone again. He glances at Hamilton, smirks, then proceeds to read his message. Hamilton watches as he shakily exhales, and squirms in his seat. He bites his lip, then swallows, then looks back up at Hamilton, who is smirking at him with his eyebrows raised. Jefferson rakes his eyes over Hamilton’s figure, making Hamilton bristle, which makes Jefferson smirk again, then he goes back to his phone to type out a response.

Before he gets the opportunity to do so, a hand comes flying down, smacking the table, and bringing everyone sitting around it to attention. George Washington, the President, speaks, “I know that most of you stopped paying attention an hour ago,” Hamilton and Jefferson make eye contact with each other and smirk, and this does not go unnoticed by the President, who narrows his gaze and continues, “But, because it’s Friday, I’ll let it slide. You’re all dismissed, have a nice weekend.” A chorus of, “You too,” and, “Have a lovely weekend,” sounded from the crowds slowly getting up to depart from the room, whereas Hamilton shot the president a look, they both nodded, then Hamilton quickly left the room and disappeared into a niche, hidden away from most of the population of workers. 

He pulled out his phone and quickly typed out, “Bring your car around, you know which entrance.” He tried to take a few calming breaths to stabilize his nerves. He quickly gave up on that, just deciding to see what happens. He hesitated for a moment, making sure he was alone, then he palmed himself through his slacks to release some of the tension that had built up through the text conversations and groaned, letting himself fall back against the nearest wall. 

Just then, his phone buzzed with a message from Jefferson, “I’m here, hurry up.” Hamilton grinned, then stopped, because now he had to figure out how to get out of the White House without being seen. He sighed, and started off on his journey through the halls. Shortly, he got another text, “Where are you?” 

Hamilton rolled his eyes at his impertinence, and responded with, “Why, are you impatient?”

Almost immediately, he got a response. “Yes, hurry up. My hand is getting what you’re missing out on.”

Hamilton’s breath hitched, and sped up. He felt the curl of jealousy at rereading Jefferson’s words, and shook his head at himself, exasperated. He made himself walk faster, but still being cautious as to not run into anyone, then he was outside and saw Jefferson’s shiny silver vehicle. 

He strutted up, yanked his door open, and got settled in his seat and said simply, “Drive.” He closed his eyes and let his head fall back against his seat, surrendering himself to the tension that was already thick inside the car. When he didn’t feel the car moving around him, he opened his eyes and was immediately crushed by a bruising kiss, Jefferson’s hand coming up and fisting in his hair. Hamilton gasped, then he quickly recovered and responded by moving his hand to paw at the crease in Jefferson’s trousers. 

In response, Jefferson growled, “You made me wait.” Then, moved lower to suck at the other man’s jawline and neck. “So, now,” he sucked at a spot on his collarbone, “I,” he continued to lavish at the hollow in his neck, “Am going,” he kissed a different spot along his clavicle, “To make you,” he paused, glancing up at Hamilton and licking his lips pointedly, “Wait.” He then pressed another fiery kiss to his lips, then sat back into the driver’s seat and started moving the car. 

Hamilton seemed taken aback, before he recovered and muttered, “Fuck you.” Jefferson smirked, then Hamilton moved over to sit as close to him as possible on the bench seats of his expensive luxury car, and whispered directly into his ear, “That is an invitation.”

He watched in satisfaction as Jefferson shivered, then looked over at him, biting his lip on purpose. “Just wait, I’m driving. And I’m actually trying not to kill us.” 

Hamilton moved so it was easy for Jefferson to look him in the eye and said petulantly, “Well, I don’t want to wait,” and pouted. He then grinned, and Jefferson rolled his eyes at him, causing him to grin wider. “You’re a smart man, you should be able to figure out how not to kill us while I’m distracting you, don’t you think? How’d you pass your driving test if you can’t handle a few distractions?” He smirked, then proceeded to kiss all the available parts of his profile, while also taking his hand and ghosting it over the bottom of his stomach, right above the waistline of his slacks, then his hand settled on the upper inside of his thigh, with his fingers dancing around. 

Jefferson gasped, his breath shuddering, and his hand jerked on the steering wheel. “Hamilton,” he gritted out, and moved his hand to grasp Hamilton’s so as to stop his progress any closer to the middle of the crease in his pants. “Stop, I can’t concentrate with you touching me, I really don’t want to be responsible for both of our deaths,” he pleaded.

Hamilton paused for a moment, before saying, “You know that I could make you change your mind about that, right?” and proceeding to kiss and suck more spots into his neck, underneath his jawline. 

Jefferson shuddered again, and responded with, “I am well aware of that, Alexander.”

Hamilton paused for a moment, taking in what he just said. “Same my name again.”

“What? Why?” He questioned, still breathy.

“Because,” said Hamilton, and he moved to kiss him, sucking on his bottom lip and toying at it with his teeth. He was very satisfied with the reaction he got, Jefferson’s eyes almost falling shut, but only staying open, he presumed, because he was driving. He also elicited a low groan from Jefferson, deep in the back of his throat. “I don’t recall you ever saying it before, and I like it.” He sucked at Jefferson’s lip harder, while still pawing at the crease in his pants, and he actually felt Jefferson’s heart rate increase, and his breathing speed up. Hamilton pulled away from Jefferson, who’s eyes slid over him, and made a low needy sound in the back of his throat. Hamilton smirked at him and raised his eyebrows expectantly.

“Alexander,” the man drawled slowly, raking his eyes over what he could easily see of Hamilton, without straying too far from the road. Hamilton felt himself shiver, and worked his way into a spot where he could easily continue lavishing kisses upon the man driving the vehicle. 

“How much longer,” whined Hamilton, and pouted.

“Why, are you impatient?” He asked, echoing his words from earlier, and smirked.

“Yes, and I will show you exactly how impatient I am,” he responded and nearly crawled into the other man’s lap, being as distracting as possible. He kissed him again, and Alexander let his hands start on Jefferson’s shoulders, ghosting downward and skating lightly over the sensitive areas of skin. Jefferson tensed slightly when his hands reached his sides, and Hamilton filed the thought away for later retrieval. He then continued moving his hands, lightly brushing them over his stomach and hips, skipping where Hamilton knew he really wanted to be touched, and settling on his upper thighs, dancing lightly and teasing. 

Jefferson had stiffened, and gritted out, “Just a few more minutes, we’re nearly there, you can wait.” Hamilton glanced up at him and pouted. Jefferson glared back at him in return and said, “I can wait.”

Hamilton pursed his lips, and said, “How can you possibly wait?”

“It’s called delayed gratification, and I’m not a teenager anymore. I can control my wants, when I want to.”

“Well, I don’t want to. I prefer instant gratification.”

“Clearly,” Jefferson snorted. 

Hamilton responded by trailing his fingernails up and down the insides of Jefferson’s thighs, teasingly, trying to break his focus. “Are you sure you can control yourself?” Hamilton asked dubiously.

“I have so far,” Jefferson retorted back, ignoring the light fingernails that made his insides jump with anticipation. “And, we’re here, by the way,” he said as he pulled up into some secluded woodsy area that Hamilton couldn’t care less about. 

Hamilton, being as he was already nearly on top of him, it was easy to twist around and fall back onto the seat, pulling Jefferson with him. Jefferson caught himself before he was able to crush the smaller man, who smirked at him, then he caught his lips in a fiery, burning kiss. Hamilton’s hands had fisted in the folds of fabric on the front of his expensive, ostentatious suit jacket and was pulling him closer. One of Jefferson’s hands fisted in the other man’s hair right at the nape of his neck. He tugged at his hair at the same time his teeth caught Hamilton’s lower lip and sucked on it, causing him to make a needy moan. He thought to himself, why does everyone go for the hair? Is it so obvious that he loves it? 

Jefferson’s other hand was slowly wandering lower and Hamilton paid it no mind until it slid underneath his shirt and he tugged impatiently at it. Hamilton smirked and lifted himself up so it was easier to remove his many layers of clothing around his torso. As Jefferson was attempting to dismantle his cocoon of fabrics, he asked, “Why, in God’s name, do you always wear so many layers of clothing?”

“Two reasons,” he said, shoving Jefferson off of him and sitting up so he could quickly shed his shirts. “The first being that I’m always very cold.” Jefferson snorted at him and was about to speak when Hamilton cut him off, “I’m from the Caribbean, alright? I’m used to warmer temperatures. The second reason,” he paused, smirking up at the larger man, “Is that it’s more entertaining to me when you try to take them all off at once.”

He then shed his final layer of clothing and Jefferson immediately pulled him back down underneath him so he was lying flat on the bench seat of the car. Hamilton chuckled, but quickly stopped when Jefferson attached to his neck and started kissing and sucking wherever he could. He sucked at a spot on his neck right where it meets his shoulder, his hands continuing to map his body. Hamilton whined and dug his fingernails into the other man’s scalp, urging him to keep going. Jefferson moved higher, in response, and sucked at Hamilton’s pulse point, hard enough that he knew it was going to leave a mark. He flicked his tongue at the purple mark he made, softly pressing it to dull the pain he knew was there. Jefferson pressed a soft kiss to the sensitive skin right behind his ear, his fingers lightly tracing circles onto Hamilton’s bare stomach. Hamilton stiffened, it seemed as though Jefferson was searching specifically for the places he knew made Hamilton’s insides jump and quiver. Jefferson whispered in his ear, “Alexander,” and was delighted when Hamilton shivered because of it. He continued to move, lower this time, leaving a trail of kisses across Hamilton’s chest and dipping his tongue lightly into his belly button, making Hamilton whimper. He paused when he got to his waistline, two of his fingers curling underneath the band around his pants and fiddling with the button. He glanced up at Hamilton with heavy, lidded, dark eyes, and Hamilton squirmed, that look alone was enough to make him harder than he already was and Jefferson smirked up at him. “May I?” He drawled, his accent thick and sexy on his tongue, tugging at the clasp on his pants again. 

“If you don’t do it soon, I’ll kill you,” he tried to threaten, but because of his breathiness it didn’t have quite the effect he wanted. 

Jefferson’s smirk grew bigger, if that was possible, and he raised his eyebrows mockingly. “Because I know how much you love delayed gratification,” he paused to mouth at the hard line in the pants of the man below him, “that’s exactly what I’m going to do,” he challenged. Hamilton squirmed and moaned, shifting on the seat to try and relieve some of the tension. He screwed his eyes shut and they would’ve stayed that way except he got a hard tug on his waistline, Jefferson saying, “Watch,” and his tone left no room for disobedience. Hamilton’s eyes fluttered open and he made contact with Jefferson’s lust blown and dilated eyes and squirmed again, the tension getting too unbearable. Jefferson slowly and purposefully undid the clasp around his waist, taking care to make sure that Hamilton was watching his every move. 

Hamilton watched his long dexterous fingers bending and straightening, entranced, the heat in stomach growing, along with the uncomfortable feeling of his pants getting tighter. “It won’t do me any good to tell you to go faster, will it?” he pleaded breathlessly. 

“Nope, not at all,” the other man replied happily. In one long, drawn-out motion, he carefully peeled Hamilton’s pants down, leaving a trail of kisses along the inside of his upper thighs, causing him to pant with need.  
“Jefferson,” he breathed.

He paused, lifting his head up to look him in the eyes. “What?” He asked, his thick accent making the word much longer than necessary.

Hamilton sighed impatiently and stated, “My shoes.”

Jefferson glanced down and rolled his eyes, reaching down to tug his shoes off with more force than necessary, then resumed his torturous descent down his legs, holding eye contact with Hamilton to add to the stimulation.  
Hamilton, in his impatience, reached down and did his best to pull Jefferson back up so their eyes were level with each other before crashing their lips together once again. Hamilton carefully tilted his hips upward, seeking, and smirking when he found what he wanted, the hard line in the other man’s pants. Hamilton pulled away from the kiss for a minute, making Jefferson dip his head down to keep contact with his lips, sliding them over his jaw, and settling on a point somewhere just beneath it. Hamilton breathed, “It’s not fair that I’m nearly naked and you’re still fully clothed,” he said, pushing at the ostentatious, magenta, velvet fabric that encased the upper half of his body.

“And what, exactly, are you planning to do about that?” He teased, slightly muffled because he was still sucking at his throat.

Hamilton smirked and sat up, pulling Jefferson with him. “I plan to do exactly what you did to me, just quicker.” He ripped as much of his clothing off as possible, before Jefferson started helping him, the teamwork making the process go much quicker. 

Hamilton barely had time to admire the other Secretary’s toned chest before he pulled him back onto the seat, Jefferson pinning Hamilton’s arms above his head so he couldn’t move. He passionately trapped his lips, sliding his tongue over them, demanding entry. Hamilton acquiesced, allowing him into his mouth once again. Jefferson raked his tongue over the roof of Hamilton’s mouth, then tugged on his lower lip with his teeth, eliciting another groan from him. Jefferson raised his hand and slid it into his hair once again, tugging softly, and thrusting his hips down onto Hamilton’s causing him to sharply inhale and whimper, “Please, Jefferson.”

Jefferson took pity on him, moving his hand down to rub at the hard line in between his legs, and he groaned, rocking up into his hand. Jefferson smirked, moving down off of his face, kissing a different line than before down his chest, pausing briefly. He quickly glanced up, making eye contact, then dipping his head back down and flicking his tongue over the other man’s nipple, causing Hamilton to cry out and thrust upwards helplessly. He moved so his mouth was hovering over the bulge in his underpants and mouthed at him once again, satisfied at the shuddering breaths coming from above him. Jefferson moved his last layer of fabric out of the way impatiently, before taking him in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the tip, his hand gripping the base. He moved slowly up and down, unable to resist being a tease. 

Hamilton shakily spoke, “I’m not going to be able to last long,” he gasped, his words trailing away at the end. He could feel Jefferson smirking around him and he rolled his eyes. He’d be a bit more irritated, but he had a feeling the statement was mutual. Jefferson brought him back to the present by sucking forcefully and moaning slightly, Hamilton stiffened.

He knew he didn’t have much left, so when Jefferson let his jaw go slack and swallowed around him, he wasn’t surprised when he came, crying out loudly. Jefferson cleaned him off then immediately caught his mouth in a kiss and brought his hand down onto Jefferson’s bulge. Hamilton quickly got the idea and jerked him off while making out with him, able to taste himself on Jefferson’s lips and tongue, and that made him taste better than he normally did. Jefferson groaned into his mouth when he finally found his release, Hamilton moving down to clean them up. 

After he finished with that, Jefferson caught him and pulled them close for one final kiss, before donning his clothing and indicating that Hamilton should do the same. Jefferson started the car and carefully pulled out of the clearing he somehow maneuvered his way into, and Hamilton snuggled up into his side, content at how his afternoon went. He said, “You’ve gotten better at that.”

Jefferson laughed, and said, “I was excellent to begin with, thank you very much.”

Hamilton smiled and responded, “You’re right, I’ve put up with you for this long, you must have some redeeming qualities.”

Jefferson smirked and put his arm around him to pull him closer into his side. “Would one of those qualities be my amazing cooking skills?”

“Good God, no. Don’t get me wrong, your cooking is excellent except for your macaroni skills. And that’s all you ever make. So, I have no chances to eat some of your good cooking,” Hamilton said.

Jefferson looked at him, thought about it for a moment, and finally said, “I’m going to bring you to my place and make you dinner. It will have no pasta whatsoever in it. Happy?”

“Yes, much. Maybe we’ll have a repeat of this afternoon, yes?” He asked, smirking.

“I don’t see any reason why not,” he grinned. “I have toys at home, I never carry anything around in my car on the off chance that someone steals it. If you eat my food without protest, I’ll make your evening worth your while,” he promised, his eyes glinting mischievously.

Hamilton licked his lips expectantly and nestled into Jefferson’s side, as he drove them home, his mind racing with all the possibilities of what was to come. “We’ll see,” he said thoughtfully. “We’ll see.”


End file.
